Two Roads Diverged
by Lia76
Summary: A game of darts and a bit too much beer sparks a heated argument between Sam and Dean about Ruby and the crossroads deal  that is only the beginning of a chain of events that neither could have predicted. Based on season three and does contain spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**Two Roads Diverged**

**(Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Supernatural or the CW and write for enjoyment only)**

"Bull's Eye!" Dean yelled in triumph over the loud music as he high-fived Sam with one hand and thrust his beer bottle into the air with the other.

Dean gulped down the remaining alcohol before adding the bottle to the top of the pyramid that he had been building against the wall under the dart board over the past few hours. Pyramid building (either bottles or cans could be used, depending on what was available) was a tradition that he and Sam had started years ago. When it toppled over, you knew it was time to stop drinking, or to at least slow down. Sam's pyramid fell about two and a half beers ago. Tonight, a luxury funded by a forgotten winning lottery ticket in Dean's back pocket, had turned out to be just what they both needed to take their minds off of everything, if only just for a little while.

"Lucky shot," Sam said with a smile as he walked over and pulled the dart from the center of the red and green board.

"I'm winning, you know," Dean said with a big smile of his own before he took a swig from his new beer.

"Yeah, right! Your imagination seems to be as big as your ego," Sam said with a laugh as he raised his arm to take aim.

"I don't have to imagine something that is re-al-ity, little bro!" Dean responded as he plopped down on a nearby stool at the bar to reach a nearby basket of peanuts. "Your turn, Sammy. If you try hard enough, and with enough practice, _maybe_ you'll be as good as me someday."

Sam's arm froze as Dean's good natured teasing triggered a childhood memory that he had almost forgotten.

_"Your turn, Sammy. If you try hard enough, and with enough practice, maybe you'll be as good as me someday." Dean said as he kicked the old, grass stained soccer ball over to his seven year old brother._

_"I can't! I tried to kick it in gym class and I missed. Everyone laughed at me," Sam explained as he stepped away from the ball as if it was a decapitated head._

_"Oh come on. If your big, dumb brother can do it, so can you," Dean said as he pushed Sam back over to the soccer ball._

_"You're not dumb!" Sam exclaimed, never allowing anyone to make fun of Dean, even if the words were coming out of Dean's own mouth._

_"And neither are you. I'll show you. You'll be a pro in no time. Sorry Dad couldn't be here to show you himself, but maybe we can all play together when he gets back. If the old man can keep up with us," Dean said with a smile. _

_After another hour of instruction, Dean kicked the ball over to Sammy again._

_"Now kick it like...like it's a black dog coming at you or something,"_

_"If it was a black dog, why would I be kicking it?" Sam asked. "Wouldn't I be-,"_

_"For the love of God, just kick the damn ball Sammy!" Dean said as he threw up his hands in frustration. _

_Sam looked from his brother down to the ball and then over to the goal. He chewed on his lip for a moment until Dean spoke again._

_"I'm not getting any younger here, dude," Dean prompted._

_"Okay, okay!" Sam said before kicking it with all his might._

_The brothers anxiously watched as it soared toward the goal. __It didn't go in, but it was pretty close. __Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise as he turned to his brother._

_"All right!" Dean yelled as he slapped Sam on the back in congratulations. _

_Sam smiled and shook his head in agreement before running to get the ball to try again. _

"I said it's your turn, Sammy!" Dean repeated, his mouth full of peanuts.

Sam looked at his brother for a moment before turning back to the dart board. He threw it with a shaking arm, and missed the board entirely.

"Fore!" Dean yelled with a laugh as he slammed his beer bottle down on the bar.

"I can't do this," Sam said as he grabbed his coat off of the floor and turned to leave.

"What? Wait! We're having fun here, aren't we?" Dean asked, confused. "Can't you take a joke? I mean that _was_ a pretty bad shot, you got to at least admit that!" Dean continued before reaching for another large handful of peanuts.

"I'm going back to the motel," Sam said without turning back around.

Sam rushed out of the dive bar and across the street to their latest motel, the cold air like a sobering slap to his face. He fumbled with the keys, tears blurring his vision and alcohol shaking his hands. He finally succeeded in unlocking the door. After throwing it open, he rushed to the open closet. He grabbed a small box out of one of the duffle bags and stumbled over to the closest queen bed. Kneeling onto the floor, he spread the contents of the box across the obnoxious, flower patterned bedspread. He scanned the precious photos of the smiling faces of his mom, dad, and Jessica until he spotted one with a young Dean. He picked it up to study it more closely. In less that a year, Dean too would join his other loved ones in death, relegated to becoming a memory and a two dimensional face in a photo. Tonight would be one of those memories. He didn't want it to be one of their last. He didn't want Dean to die. He didn't want to be alone.

"Why do you torture yourself, Sammy?" Dean asked quietly from the doorway before shutting the door behind him.

Sam quickly brushed the tears away as Dean swept the photos back into their box with one swift motion.

"How...how can you just pretend that this isn't happening?" Sam asked as he stood and turned around.

"This again?" Dean asked with a sigh as he shoved the box back into the duffle bag. "God, I almost forgot how depressed you get when you're drunk."

"You can't just expect me to play along with this...with this fantasy of yours?" Sam asked, tears coming to his eyes again.

"_Fantasy_, Sam? Where did this all come from? It was just a game of darts! What, we're not allowed to have any fun anymore?" Dean asked.

"You're going to die in less than a year, Dean!" Sam yelled.

"Thanks for the news flash!" Dean yelled back as he made a dramatic motion of slapping his palm on his forehead. "So you really want me to stop living life until then? Curl up in the corner and cry about it? I'm not going to do that! I'm going to enjoy every last minute of it!"

"Well, I can't do it! I'm not just going to sit back and do nothing!" Sam argued.

"I told you a million times, Sammy! If we try to do anything to undo the crossroads deal, you'll drop dead! That's something that _I_ can't do! What's done is done! Just let it be!" Dean insisted.

"No! What's done is NOT done! Ruby said-!" Sam began to explain.

"Not again with this demon chic!" Dean exclaimed.

"Is it so hard to believe that she may have a way to save you and maybe even to end the war? She has a knife that can kill demons! Something that even Bobby has never seen! Who knows what else she can show us!" Sam reminded him.

"Demons will say _anything_ to get what they want. You know that! I'm not letting you drink so much anymore, little brother. You never could hold your liquor." Dean said.

"I _just_ want to talk to her, Dean. Can't we just talk to her? Please!" Sam begged.

"You're drunk. Everything will be better in the morning," Dean said as he walked over to his brother and took his arm to pull him over to the bed.

"I AM NOT DRUNK!" Sam yelled as he violently pulled away.

"Only people who ARE drunk yell that they are NOT drunk!" Dean yelled back.

Sam angrily stared at Dean for a moment before grabbing his duffle bag off of the table and then stomping over to the dresser.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Dean asked as Sam yanked his clothes out of one of the drawers and shoved them inside.

He continued speaking when Sam didn't answer.

"Come on, Sam. You're mad, I get it. But let's just go to bed and-,"

"I'm leaving," Sam said after his zipped up his bag.

"_What?_" Dean asked, shock preventing him from uttering any further sentences.

"I'm going to find Ruby to get some answers," Sam explained defiantly as he walked toward the door with his bag in hand.

"Forget it! We don't need her and besides, we really have to be careful now! You can't just go strolling around wherever and whenever you want! Those two goons of Gordon's, uh, what are their names? Creedy and Cooper? They want you dead! Or did you forget that?" Dean asked..

Sam paused after he opened the motel door, and turned back around

"Then I'll see you in hell," Sam said with finality.

"For crying out loud! STOP with these dramatics, will you?" Dean yelled as he grabbed the bag out of Sam's hand.

"Give it back!" Sam yelled as he lunged for it.

Dean pulled it out of his reach just in time to send Sam stumbling to the floor.

"You okay?" Dean asked, remembering Sam's shoulder wound, as he watched him get back onto his feet, looking a bit more green with the effort.

"I'm FINE! But this conversation is NOT OVER!" Sam yelled as he stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Dean sat down on the bed, exhausted. Cripes, it was just a game of darts, Dean thought again as he listened to Sam praying to the porcelain god. He agreed that they would have to have one hell of a conversation in the morning when they were both a hell of a lot more sober.

Ruby turned away from the small opening in the drapes of the Winchesters' motel room window and smiled as the muffled yelling ceased. It was finally happening. It was only a matter of time before Sam and Dean understood what she already knew. When Sam died and Dean brought him back to life, the brothers' lives diverged from each other onto _very_ different roads. She and Sam were the two that shared a path now. Her eyes flashed black as she turned to leave. She had no doubt that she would be seeing Sam again very, very soon.

**Thanks for reading this chapter while I procrastinate writing for my other stories. Season three opens the door to so many interesting stories for Sam and Dean, doesn't it? (I may do more chapters if there is interest.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Faster and faster Sam ran up the hill, the rain pelting into his back like thousands of tiny knives. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he knew he must not stop. When his foot caught on a tree root, he was momentarily stunned as he fell to the ground with a grunt._

_"Don't stop now, Sammy! It's still behind us!" Dean yelled as he darted past him. _

_"Wait!" Sam yelled a little too late, his brother disappearing into a line of trees ahead. _

_Sam hurried to his feet and began to run again to catch up with Dean. He soon found himself in a large, grassy clearing surrounded by towering trees on all sides. There was no sign of his brother. The sky was darkening by the minute and Sam knew they could not linger here._

_"DEAN! WHERE ARE YOU?" Sam shouted._

_"Over here!" Dean answered from somewhere nearby._

_Sam whipped around and jumped when he saw Dean now standing directly behind him._

_"Help me Sam!" Dean pleaded as he pulled at his legs._

_Sam's eyes widened and he dropped down to Dean's feet, or where his feet should have been. His brother's legs were now joined together and transformed into a single tree trunk with roots that shot out from its base anchoring it to the ground underneath. _

_"What do I do?" Sam asked Dean desperately as he clawed away at the grass and dirt in vain. "Help me!" Sam yelled, not exactly sure to whom he was asking. _

_"I'm here because I want to help you," Ruby answered as she stepped out from behind Dean, her blonde hair seemingly untouched by the down pouring rain. In her hand glinted a shiny, metal ax. "I can help you save your brother!"_

_"You'll kill him!" Sam insisted as he stood to face her. _

_"You said it yourself, Sam! It's a risk you need to take!" she said her ax raised now, poised over Dean trunk-like lower half._

_"Dean! What do I do?" Sam asked again as he turned back to his big brother. _

_"What is wrong with you? She's lying! You got to know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is. It's me," Dean reprimanded, all of his body wooden now except for his head._

_"Trust me, Sam!" she insisted, bright red blood now pouring off of the tip of her ax and pooling at her feet._

_"You're a demon!" Sam yelled._

_"Are we really that different?" she asked as the trees behind her suddenly erupted into roaring flames. _

_Sam looked down at his right hand, aware that he was now holding a burning wooden stake. He threw it to the ground, but it was too late. Flames began to lick at Dean's roots. _

_"Why Sam?" Dean screamed with tears in his eyes before his face too froze into wood._

_Sam fell to his knees and covered his ears, as other voices screamed around him. Voices that he recognized. Voices of people that he had loved. He looked up again as Ruby hacked away at Dean. Behind her, the burning trees began to topple. As each one hit the ground, they morphed into burning corpses of his mother, Jessica, and his father. _

_"NO!" Sam yelled as other trees fell around him until all he saw was the blinding red-orange fire….all he felt was the unbearable heat…and all he heard was the deafening screams. _

Sam shot up in bed, his breathing rapid and his body wet with sweat. As he gulped for air, he looked around, registering that he was in their crappy motel room. He guessed Dean had dragged his ass back to bed since he didn't remember anything after throwing up in the bathroom for what must have been at least an hour. It was dark and quiet here, but his ears still seemed to be ringing from the screams. He looked over at Dean's unmoving form in the next bed. He let out a sigh of relief that he hadn't woken his brother, no doubt courtesy of the high numbers of beers Dean threw back as well. The beer. That's what brought on his nightmare, Sam thought, the first one since they killed the yellow eyed demon. Just part of the hang-over. That's all, Sam tried to convince himself. It wasn't working. He recognized that it wasn't a vision, thank God for that, but he couldn't dispel the nagging feeling that it somehow still meant something.

Any minute now, Dean thought, Sam will call my name to wake me up. Sam will tell me what happened. Any minute now. Instead of Sam's voice, however, the only sound Dean heard was that of a squeaking mattress. A moment later the bathroom door shut with a soft click. Dean sat up in disbelief. Sam _wasn't_ going to tell him about it? Dean's thoughts jumped to one of their recent conversations as he flipped on the light on the nightstand.

_"You're okay right? I mean you're feeling okay?" Dean asked as he glanced at Sam as if half expecting him to suddenly have two heads._

"_Yes, I'm fine. Why are you always asking me that?" Sam answered angrily._

I'm always asking you that, Sammy, because I'm your big brother, Dean thought as he got up to walk over to the bathroom.

Sam sat down on the floor, drawn to the feeling of the cool tiles on his skin. As much as he wanted to forget about the nightmare, he had to figure out if his subconscious was trying to tell him something. His thoughts were interrupted by a rapping on the door. Crap! Sam thought as he scrambled to his feet.

"Uh, just a minute!" Sam yelled as he turned on the faucet to splash some cold water on his face and neck.

"Come on, Sam. Open up!" Dean demanded.

"In a minute!" Sam said as he grabbed the scratchy towel off of the rusting metal bar to wipe his face and neck.

When Dean pounded on the door a second time, Sam threw it open in anger.

"Can't a guy go to the bathroom in peace?" he yelled as he pushed past Dean, laid down on his bed, and closed his eyes.

Dean shook his head as he turned around to face his brother.

"What do you think you're doing?" Dean asked.

"Hmm. Bed. Night. Eyes closed. Would that be _trying to sleep_ for three hundred?" Sam answered sarcastically.

"What the hell is your problem?" Dean asked as he walked over to the bed.

"_I_ don't have a problem. What's _your_ problem?" Sam asked as he sat up.

"So you're not even going to tell me about it?" Dean asked, anger evident in his voice now too.

"Tell you about what?" Sam asked, resenting the intrusion on his figuring out his dream on his own first.

"Don't play dumb with me, little brother! The vision you just had!" Dean exclaimed.

"Oh _that_," Sam said as he walked over to the small table next to the front door, plopped down in the chair, and opened his laptop.

Dean walked over and slammed it shut.

"Oh that? Are you _kidding_ me? The first vision you've had since yellow eyes bought the farm and you're_ not_ concerned?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"I didn't have a vision! It was just a nightmare! We both drank a lot last night!" Sam answered as he opened his laptop again.

Dean slammed it closed again. Sam sat back in his chair and folded his arms.

"Nothing with you is _just _anything, Sam! We have to talk about this!" Dean insisted.

Sam shook his head as he jumped to his feet, beyond furious now.

"_We_ don't have to talk about this! _This_ doesn't concern you anymore! _I'm_ not you're problem anymore! I might as well get used to it, right? You won't be here in a year to protect me anymore anyway! It's time I take care of myself!" Sam said, spitting out each word as if it was poison.

After he saw Dean's shocked and confused expression, Sam realized what he had said and fell back into the chair, the adrenaline of the anger leaving him spent now.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Dean. I don't know why I said all of that stuff. I don't…I don't mean it. Any of it. I'm just tired and…and hung over. Let's just go back to bed, okay? Talk about this in the morning?" he asked in apology.

"How about now? It's been _way_ too boring around here without any or your dreams or visions to talk about. Would make a good bedtime story, right?" Dean said with a smile to lighten the mood as he slapped Sam's knee.

"Well, okay. If you want," Sam agreed, although he didn't miss that Dean's cheeriness seemed awfully sudden.

"You want some coffee first?" Dean asked as got up.

Sam nodded and watched him pour some from the small pot of the coffee maker on top of the broken mini-fridge into two Styrofoam cups. One of the only perks of this room.

"How old is this?" Sam asked with a smile as Dean put the cup down in front of him.

"I guess I made it this morning. Does it really matter?" Dean said with a laugh as he sat down across from Sam.

"I guess not," Sam said with another smile.

Sam took a cautious sip and grimaced.

"Yuck!" Sam said as he put the cup back down on the table.

"Just tell me about your dream already, will you? I would like to get back to sleep before the sun comes up," Dean said teasingly.

"Yeah, okay," Sam said.

Dean listened as Sam relayed his dream to him. His very, _very_ strange dream.

"So I was a tree, huh? And you just let her hack away at me? And then you caught me on fire? Ouch," Dean said before he finished the last sip of his coffee.

"Dean, it's not about you being a tree. Everything in my dream, as in anyone's dream, means something very different than what it appears," Sam explained.

"What's your take on it then, psychology boy?" Dean asked.

"Well, let's take it one step at a time. I want to hear what you think too," Sam said, deciding to think it out as he went along. "Okay, so the dream started with me, us, running up a hill in the rain. It's not a stretch to say that dealing with your crossroads deal and the demon war feels like fighting an uphill battle," Sam said.

Dean nodded, deciding to let it go for now that the deal was nothing Sam should be concerned with fighting or changing.

"Makes sense. And the rain. It was raining the night Jake stabbed you. Maybe on some level, you associate rain with danger or death," Dean guessed.

"You could be right, Dean. I'm impressed," Sam said with a smile.

"Hey, once in a while, right?" Dean answered.

Sam ignored Dean's jab at his own intelligence and continued.

"You run off ahead of me. I can't find you. My fear of losing you in a year. The dark sky. An omen of doom. Pretty simple stuff," Sam said.

"What else? What about the trees? What do you think they mean?" Dean asked, prompting him to continue before he voiced his own opinion.

"Well, that's a bit harder to figure out. As trees, everyone was stuck there in that clearing. Mom, Dad, Jess, and finally you," Sam said before pausing for a moment. "You turned to wood, as stiff as a statue made out of stone. Stone. Hmm. Maybe the trees were even representations of headstones making the clearing like a graveyard of sorts?" Sam asked with a shrug. "It's reaching, I know. And the fire-."

"Mom and Jess burned and we also burned dad's body. The fire could also represent hell, of course," Dean commented. "Wait, you don't still blame yourself for their deaths, do you?"

"No!" Sam said a bit too quickly.

Both were silence for a moment. Dean let that go too, for now. Dean's thoughts shifted to thinking about nightmare Ruby's question to Sam. Was the yellow eyed demon right about Sam not being one hundred percent himself? Does Sam have a realization on some level that something is not quite right with him?

"And Ruby? I did recognize some of our earlier conversation in there," Dean said, interested to hear Sam's perspective.

"Yeah. There's that. I think it's more about what she does that what she says. Maybe she represents possible salvation for you as well as equally possible risk or death. Like her chopping at you with the ax could free you or kill you," Sam hypothesized before sighing. "I don't know. It could all just be a crazy nightmare brought on by too much alcohol that doesn't mean anything at all."

"There is that possibility. But look, we know one thing. This Ruby demon girl is bad news. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Until we figure her out, you talk to her _only_ when I'm around. Can you promise me that much?" Dean asked.

"Dean-," Sam began to protest.

"Just…just let me be your big brother and do this, okay? Unless you've already replaced me with someone else that is," Dean said with a smile.

"I haven't replaced you, yet," Sam said with a smile.

"I didn't hear a yes, Sammy," Dean said.

"Okay," Sam answered reluctantly as he stood as well.

"Good. I'm glad we had this talk," Dean said as he got back into bed. "Now, I have to get back to my _very_ enjoyable dream with Jennifer Aniston _and_ Angelina Jolie. If you were half as smart as you think you are, you'd do the same."

"Good night, Dean," Sam said with a laugh as he too got back into bed and turned off the light.

Dean didn't answer, asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Sam was left in the dark once again, in more ways than one. He had so much to think about and whether Dean liked it or not, Ruby seemed to hold the key.

** Thanks for reading and reviewing and see you back again soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_**One month later…**_

After Ruby strolled out of the motel room wearing her usual devious smile, Sam angrily resumed jamming his clothes into his open backpack. How did she _always_ manage to catch him off guard, while he never could find as much as a trace of her trail? Even though he knew Dean was waiting with Bobby at the nearby diner while he checked them out, he paused for a moment. He shook his head, knowing that he was more rattled by her words than he wanted to admit. He dropped down on the bed next to his backpack with a sigh. He decided to review their conversation again to see if he missed _any_ meaning behind her words. To determine if suffering through the fit that he knew Dean was going to throw, when he found out that he had talked to Ruby without him, was worth it.

"_Leaving so soon? We haven't even had a chance to celebrate," Ruby said as she stepped inside the motel room._

"_Yeah, well you can celebrate without me." Sam answered, appalled by her suggestion._

"_You're not going to get all pouty on me, are you?" she asked as she shut door. "Come on. You killed two demons today," she congratulated him as she smiled._

"_Yeah. Maybe you don't care, but I killed two humans too," Sam reminded her._

"_Sam, you know what happens when demons piggyback humans. They leave them road hard and put up wet. Chances are those two would have died a slow, sticky death. You probably did them a favor," she responded, sitting on the bed now._

"_Did them a favor? You're a cold bitch. You know that?" Sam answered in disgust._

"_And this cold bitch has saved your ass a couple of times now. Some respect would be nice," Ruby reminded him, as Sam fingered the Colt on the bed. "Especially if you want me to help you out with Dean and his little problem."_

"_You know what? You keep dangling that, but the last time I checked, Dean's still going to hell," Sam said._

"_Everything in its own time Sam, but there's a quid pro quo here. We're in a war."_

"_Right, but for some reason you're fighting on our side. Now, tell me why is that again?" Sam asked._

"_I don't have to justify my actions to you, Sam. If you don't want my help, fine. Then give me the gun and I'll pass it on to someone who will use it," Ruby promised._

"_Maybe I'll just use it on you" Sam said as he pointed the Colt at her._

"_Go ahead, if that makes you happy. Not going to do much for Dean, though. So what's it going to be, hmmm?" she asked as Sam lowered gun a few moments later._

"_Ahhh. That's my boy. This won't be easy, Sam. You're going to have to do things that go against that gentle nature of yours. There'll be collateral damage. But it has to be done," Ruby explained._

"_But I don't have to like it," Sam clarified._

"_No, you wouldn't be Sam if you did. On the bright side, I'll be there with you, the little fallen angel on your shoulder."_

Sam jumped off of the bed as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Wait a minute! Wait just a minute!" he exclaimed to the empty room as he rushed over to his laptop and opened it.

Most of what she said was unimportant, yes. Expected even. But her _last_ sentence? _Fallen angel_ on his shoulder? _How _did I almost miss that? Sam reprimanded himself as he typed "fallen angel" into his laptop. For the next hour, he scanned dozens of websites on the subject, frequently reading outloud to himself.

"According to Christian mythology, the War of Heaven was a defining moment in the universe, when the archangel Lucifer led a third of the Angels in an open revolution against God and his loyal angels. With intelligence, radiance, beauty, and power unmatched among all of the angels in Heaven, Lucifer was second in majesty only to God Himself. The most common catalyst considered to have driven Lucifer towards his unsuccessful coup was the Creation of Man, whereupon God ordered all his angels to bow down to Mankind. Lucifer, succumbing to pride, the deadliest of the seven sins, considered this an insult, and rallied discontent amongst other angels who felt the act was degrading since they were God's first creation themselves. In 1273, Pope John XXI, then Bishop of Tusculum, estimated that the total number of angels who sided with Lucifer's revolt numbered 133,306,668, which would suggest that they were fighting against a force of 266,613,336 angels who remained loyal to God. This number was later affirmed by 15th-century scholar Alphonso de Spina. Filled with hubris, Lucifer issued a declaration of war stating that 'I will ascend to Heaven; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly, on the utmost heights of the sacred mountain. I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High.' In the end, Lucifer and all the angels under his command, were thrown out of Heaven as punishment for their insurrection.Several millennia afterwards, Jesus Christ reported that he had been present and seen Lucifer being thrown down like a flash of lightning."

His heart racing now, Sam closed his laptop and sat back in the chair to ponder his initial findings. Was Ruby one of the millions of fallen angels that followed Lucifer in the War of Heaven? Or was Ruby _the_ leading fallen angel, Lucifer? If so, why waste time with him? And what did all of this mean for the demon war, if anything? Of course, another possibility was that her final comment held no hidden meaning at all. Maybe she _has_ chosen to fight the good fight, the motivation for her offer to help save Dean, viewing the human hosts as necessary collateral damage in destroying the demons against them in the war. He _had _to talk this out with Dean no matter what the consequence. This was TOO big, the possibilites too many to work through on his own. He willed himself to calm down as he closed his laptop and tucked it under his arm. As he dashed past the bed, he grabbed his backpack and realized too late that he had forgotten to zip it closed.

"Damn!" Sam cursed at himself, well aware that he was already running _very_ behind schedule.

As he shoved the spilled items back into his pack, Sam's hand brushed onto a neatly folded piece of ecru colored paper. How did this get into his bag? Confused, he opened it and began to silently read the perfectly flowing black script.

_"Do not go gentle into that good night,_

_Old age should burn and rave at close of day;_

_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

_Though wise men at their end know dark is right,_

_Because their words had forked no lightning they_

_Do not go gentle into that good night._

_Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright_

_Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,_

_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

_Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,_

_And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,_

_Do not go gentle into that good night._

_Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight_

_Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,_

_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

_And you, my father, there on the sad height,_

_Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray._

_Do not go gentle into that good night._

_Rage, rage against the dying of the light."_

_Sam,_

Will you do nothing as Dean seeks to go gentle into that good night? Join me to rage against the dying of the light for us all. The path is revealed. 

_-Ruby_

He recognized Dylan Thomas' famous poem _Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night_. He studied it in school. Remembered liking it even. He hadn't really understood it then. Not like he did now. He knew it, and obviously so did Ruby. But what _exactly_ did her message mean for Dean...for him...for mankind? He was even more confused now. Just as each time before, she still had the upper hand, still knew much more than he did. She also knew exactly what he wanted, Dean alive, when he still had no clear idea of what she wanted. What path? It scared him and he quickly folded up the paper and tucked it into the zippered pocket of his backpack.

The last thing he grabbed off of the floor before zippering his backpack closed was the Colt. It felt much heavier than he remembered, as if some invisible hand wished him to touch it no longer. He ran his hands over the metal object for a moment before wrapping it in his t-shirt and placing it in the botton of his backpack. Ruby had helped Bobby fix it. Why? Had it been her plan all along for him to use it last night to kill the two demons? Was he already on her path, she assuming that shooting them would ease his discomfort for future kills? More analysis would have to wait, he thought, as he left to meet Dean and Bobby.

"Hey Sammy! Checking out took longer than I thought. You fall asleep?" Dean asked with a smile after Sam walked into the diner and up to their booth.

Sam paused for a moment, as he looked back and forth between Dean and Bobby.

"You okay? Something happen?" Dean asked, concerned as he studied his younger brother's face for clues.

Sam thought about the fun they had playing darts last month and then about the horror of his nightmare. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't give up his chance of saving Dean. Not yet.

"Uh... no, everything's fine," Sam said as he maneuvered into the booth's seat next to Dean. "What are you two talking about?" Sam asked as he stole a fry off of his older brother's plate.

It was Dean who was silent this time as he remembered what Casey had said not long before Sam rescued him, shooting her and her demon boyfriend in the process.

_"__Sam was supposed to be the grand poopah and lead the big army, but he hasn't exactly stepped up to the plate, has he?" Casey asked._

_"Thank God for that," Dean answered._

_"Again with God. You think this is a good thing. Now you've got chaos, war without a front. Hundreds of demons all jockeying for power, all fighting for the crown. Most of them gunning for your brother. For the record, I was ready to follow Sam."_

Dean thought about the fun they had playing darts last month and then about the horror of his brother's nightmare. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't give Casey's words any more validity. Not yet.

"Uh, nothing much. You ready to go?" Dean asked.

**Stay tuned for more soon. Thanks for reading!**

Sources: Wickipedia. com and _The Poems of Dylan Thomas_, published by New Directions. Copyright © 1952, 1953 Dylan Thomas. Copyright © 1937, 1945, 1955, 1962, 1966, 1967 the Trustees for the Copyrights of Dylan Thomas. Copyright © 1938, 1939, 1943, 1946, 1971 New Directions Publishing Corp.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_**Two months later…**_

"Hey Sam? Where's the spare key to the Impala?" Dean asked as he stepped inside their motel room and shut the door, bringing a rush of cold air in with him.

"You lost the key to your precious baby?" Sam asked with a smile as he looked up from his laptop.

"Not _lost_. It's very safe. Very safe…inside the trunk," Dean explained with a smile.

"It's the middle of the night. What are you doing out there anyway?" Sam asked.

"Making sure that we're good and stocked up. Not easy to do during the daytime with tourists and their little brats running all over the place. We are _never_ staying anywhere again where kids eat free," Dean said.

"I thought you liked kids," Sam laughed.

"I do. I like them at home with babysitters while I play tonsil hockey with their hot moms," Dean clarified with a smile and a far away look as if lost in a _very_ happy memory.

"Nice, Dean," Sam said with another laugh. "Anyway, the spare's in my backpack," Sam said before looking back at his screen.

A few minutes later, Dean walked over to Sam. When he stood there but did not speak, Sam looked up from his screen again.

"What? Couldn't you find the-," Sam's mouth dropped when he saw the familiar ecru colored paper grasped in Dean's right hand.

"What…the…hell…is…this?" Dean asked, his mouth so tight with anger that he was barely able to speak the words.

"I… I can explain," Sam said as he stood, his mind racing to think of a plausible explanation.

"You two passing notes now? You plus Ruby equals four ever?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Sam exclaimed with anger of his own now.

"What's ridiculous is you keeping this from me! When did she give this to you? How often have you been seeing her behind my back when I _specifically_ asked you not to?" Dean yelled.

"I haven't seen her since two months ago! You don't need to freak out over this! " Sam yelled back.

"Two months ago?" Dean mumbled to himself as his mind thought back to that time period.

He raised his eyebrows when the realization hit him.

"Is that why it took you an eternity to check us out of that motel while Bobby and I were waiting for you at that diner? You lied to me! I asked you if something happened-," Dean said.

"You're one to talk, Dean!" Sam said, cutting him off. "I talked to Bobby today. He asked me if we found out anything more about what that demon Casey told you when you two were holed up together in her house. I had to pretend like I knew what the hell he was talking about until I could find out everything! How could you just leave me in the dark like that?" Sam yelled.

"Demons lie Sammy! You know that! I was just protecting you! But I can't protect you if you don't tell me when that scank Ruby comes to see you to mess with your head!" Dean explained.

"I don't need your protection from _everything_!" Sam exclaimed.

"Sure, not when you have her to protect you right? You confide in her now over me? I'm not even dead yet and you've already moved on, huh?" Dean accused.

"No, Dean. It's not like that-," Sam began.

"Whatever. Look, you have to let this go! You have to let _me_ go!" Dean said, cutting Sam off this time.

"I could say the same thing to you! _You_ have to let me go! Let me make my own decisions!" Sam said.

Both boys were silent for a moment as they pondered what was just said.

"So where does this leave us?" Dean asked, his voice quieter now.

"I don't know. At a crossroads of sorts, I guess," Sam answered.

"You know how much I love a good crossroads," Dean said sarcastically.

After another long pause Dean leaned down to grab his army green duffle bag off of the floor between the two beds.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Going to Bobby's for a few days. I think we both need some space from each other right now," Dean said as he walked toward the door.

"Dean. Don't you do this, please. Don't you make me choose between you living and you dying. It's not so black and white!" Sam pleaded, tears springing to his eyes.

"You don't have to choose. _I've_ aleady chosen. Guess you're not mature enough to make your own decisions yet," he said as he stormed out.

Sam's mouth dropped open as he watched Dean leave, the impact of his big brother's words like a punch to his stomach. Dean didn't look back as he got into the Impala, slammed the car door, and turned the key in the ignition. Didn't want to see his little brother's puppy dog eyes looking back at him. He did watch Sam's tall black silhouette grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror until it was gone when the he turned the Impala around a corner. Dean circled the block, parked down the street in a spot where the motel room door was in clear view, and waited. Soon he saw someone climb out of a small black sports car with tinted black windows and slip into Sam's room. The demon bitch Ruby. He clearly saw her when she had passed under the light outside of the door. His hunch was correct. Awfully predictable for someone who thinks she's so damn smart. She always somehow seemed to show up when Sam was vunerable. He watched her get back into her car and drive away about fifteen minutes later. A few moments later he followed behind her, keeping some distance between her car and the Impala. This ends tonight, he thought as he held the Colt on his lap. It was time he and Ruby had a little talk. He hoped that Sam would forgive him no matter how it ended. Maybe someday Sam would finally realize that he will _never_ let him go. Not until Hell came for him. Not until then.

**Thanks for reading! One more chapter to go folks! Come back soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

_A few moments later he followed behind her, keeping some distance between her car and the Impala. This ends tonight, he thought as he held the Colt on his lap. It was time he and Ruby had a little talk. He hoped that Sam would forgive him no matter how it ended. Maybe someday Sam would finally realize that he will __never__ let him go. Not until Hell came for him. Not until then._

**Chapter 5**

Dean turned off the Impala's headlights before slowing the car to a stop. He watched as Ruby parked in front of what looked like a deserted two story building on the next block and disappeared inside. After a brief moment of his conscience asking him if he was doing the right thing, he hurried down the sidewalk, careful to avoid the sections illuminated by the occasional streetlights. Colt in hand, he cautiously peered inside a busted out section of one of the dirty front windows. He could only see darkness inside. Weighing his choices, he decided to investigate further and pushed against the door. It opened with ease and thankfully, no noise to give away his entrance. He turned to his right and trailed along the wall as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Suddenly bright lights flooded his vision, momentarily blinding him. Blinking, his eyes opened to focus on a young blonde woman standing about twenty feet in front of him. He quickly raised the Colt at her.

"Now, now. Is that any way for the two most important people in Sam's life to _finally_ meet? I'm quite offended," she said as she made a sad face and put her hand to her chest.

"Wow. You're a crazy bitch _and_ a bad actress. Enough of this crap. What did you say to my brother tonight?" Dean asked, his gun now aimed at her forehead.

"Why not ask him yourself? What, aren't you two getting along?" she asked with phony concern. "Shame. I'll have to ask him about that the next time I see him."

"You stay away from Sam or I'll kill you," Dean threatened.

"Kill me with _my_ gun? Please," she said as she shook her head, seemingly undisturbed by his words. "You think that will solve everything? Without me, Sam is as good as dead and you, in a year."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, her words sounding eerily familiar to those of the dead demon, Casey.

"I can protect him and save you. It's a win-win for everyone," she explained.

"_You're_ going to protect him? That job is already taken, demon," Dean responded angrily.

"It's too big a job for you, little boy," she spat, her eyes flashing black for a moment before she regained her composure and the calm smile returned.

"So why do you want to help us? Out of the goodness of your heart?" Dean asked, unconvinced that any part of her motive was altruistic.

"Well, you're both absolutely to die for, but no," she said before the smile left her face again. "I will _not_ lose what is promised to me, to _my_ side in this war."

"Your side versus humans?" Dean asked, hoping to pull as much information out of her as possible before he shot her.

"Please. You humans are mere pawns. This is a _demon _war. It's open season and everyone wants to grab the brass ring. Sam is mine. He has strength that he hasn't even begun to realize. If Sam isn't on _my_ side. Well, then he's on _their_ side. And that's a _very_ dangerous place to be," she explained as she stepped closer to Dean.

"I think we'll take our chances. I prefer danger to tea parties with little girls like you anyway," Dean said as he cocked the trigger.

"Dean! What the _hell_ are you doing?" Sam yelled as he rushed inside and stopped halfway in between the pair, blocking Dean's shot.

"Get out of the way, Sam!" Dean demanded.

"She was right," Sam said, his voice a mixture of disbelief, betrayal and sadness. "She said that she knew you would try to kill her. I told her that you wouldn't do that to me. Told her to get out. How naïve was I to think that you thought enough of me to handle this myself?" Sam asked, tears welling up in his eyes now.

"Sammy, it's not like that! She's trying to turn you against me! Can't you see that?" Dean asked in his defense.

"So you didn't follow her here and I'm imagining that you're pointing the Colt at her right now?" Sam asked, before biting his lip now to prevent it from quivering.

Dean clenched and unclenched his jaw, and even though every instinct told him not to, he lowered the Colt.

"I'm _so_ sorry that your brother doesn't believe in you like I do, Sammy," Ruby said to him in a soothing voice from where she stood.

"Sweet cheeks, I'm not dead yet. I'm the _only_ one that can call him Sammy," Dean said, raising the Colt again.

"Shut up. SHUT UP! Both of you," Sam yelled, paralyzed with indecision.

Everything was so damned confusing, so messed up. What should he do? He continued to look at Dean for a moment before turning to look at Ruby. Between a rock and a hard place. He didn't want his brother to die, but could he really do all of those horrific things Ruby would make surely make him do in exchange for his brother's life? He knew the answer was a resounding yes, and that terrified him most of all. Did she somehow know what he had told Dean that night in the cemetery after they shot the yellow eyed demon?

_"I mean you sacrified everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes. I'm going to get you out of this…"_

He had just one question left to ask.

"Will you help me find another way, Dean? _Please_," Sam pleaded.

Dean opened his mouth to protest, something that was a reflex these days, but stopped himself this time. He finally realized that whether he liked it or not, helping Sam save his life was the _only_ way that he himself could save Sam, the only way to keep him away from Ruby and the others wielding empty, dark promises.

"Okay, yes. I promise," Dean answered.

Sam nodded and got two steps closer to his brother before Ruby spoke again.

"He's lying to you, Sam! He's still treating you like a baby, just like he always has!" she said, her voice desperate now.

Her words paused his motion temporarily as something else came to mind. His nightmare. Maybe it wasn't about teaming up _with _Ruby to save Dean. Maybe it was about _not_ working with her to save them both. Sam walked the remaining steps toward Dean, praying the whole time that he wasn't making one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

Dean smiled as Sam stopped to stand next to him, feeling as if a ton of bricks had just been lifted off of his shoulders. He had his brother back _and_ a clear shot to her now.

"Sam, what are you doing? I am the _only_ one who can save him!" she yelled.

"No," Sam disagreed. "We'll find another way. Together. Ruby," Sam said. "your road ends here."

With a lighting fast move that surprised even Dean, Sam grabbed the cocked Colt out of Dean's hand and fired at her chest with perfect accuracy. Instead of dropping to the ground in a fit of convulsions and sparks, Ruby laughed, her eyes black orbs again. She opened her fist and dropped the spent bullet to the floor, it bouncing twice before rolling away.

"Like I said. Kill me with _my_ gun? Please," she said.

After recovering from the shock of what they just witnessed, Sam cocked the gun again. Before he had the chance to fire another shot, she flicked her head, sending Sam and Dean flying against the wall. She raised them inches from the floor as they struggled in vain to free themselves.

"You know Sammy," she said as she walked up to him and picked the Colt up off of the floor. "maybe you are on to something here. You won't have to worry about living without Dean. You'll be long dead before his year is up."

With a grim laugh, she raised her hands. Suddenly, the lights burst, showering glass down upon Sam and Dean as they fell to the floor. Groaning, Dean wrestled his small flashlight out of his jeans pocket and swept the nearby area with its beam. She was no where in sight.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked his little brother as he shined the light on his face.

"Yeah. You?" Sammy asked with a grunt as he shifted to a sitting position.

"Yeah. Nothing a few beers and a game of darts won't fix," Dean said.

"The Colt's gone," Sam said, missing Dean's attempt to lighten the mood.

"I know. But we'll get it back. It'll be the first thing we do," Dean vowed as he brushed glass off of the front of Sam's shirt.

Sam grabbed Dean's wrist and held it tightly.

"No. _Not_ the first thing. You break your promise to help me find a way to save you and I'm gone. I'll go to Ruby and I'll do _whatever_ she wants," Sam said.

"I know that too," Dean answered, the crushing weight of the bricks returning to his shoulders. "I know."

**The End**

**Thanks for reading and for all of the wonderful reviews. I may revisit this story at a later time.**


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